


rooted in tragedy (blossomed in serendipity)

by CassandrasDreamworld



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Asshole Mages, Asshole teachers, Bittersweet Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Explicit Child Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Sad Ending, The Inherent Tragedy of Witchers, Trial Of The Grasses (The Witcher), Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion, hinted queerplatonic Eskel & Geralt & Jaskier, implied Hurt Eskel (The Witcher), mentioned child death, please mention if a tag is missing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandrasDreamworld/pseuds/CassandrasDreamworld
Summary: It begins the same way it ends.It ends the same way it begins....Julian, Eskel, and Geralt grow up to be Witchers side by side.They're friends and partners and one heart beating between three bodies.Not every ending is a happy one.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 23
Kudos: 46
Collections: The Witcher Quick Fic #03





	rooted in tragedy (blossomed in serendipity)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy reading. :)

It begins the same way it ends. 

The light of the setting sun paints everything golden and a tree towers above, the remaining leaves cluttering together in patches of crisp yellow-green. A single leaf slowly descends and joins the soft carpet of yellows and reds and browns.

It’s peaceful and quiet, but for some lone birds cawing in the distance. 

The quiet is broken all at once by a pair of boys racing and yelling gleefully, laughing as they try and catch the other. “Come on Eskel! Don’t be such a snail!” The red haired boy calls out.

The other one- Eskel- just huffs in response and runs faster to try and catch up. He sees his chance when his friend slips on the leaves covering the ground, sending him tumbling in a pile of gangly limbs. Eskel lunges and goes down with the other boy as they wrangle and play-fight. 

In the end, Eskel gets the upper hand. 

“Not so fast now Geralt, are you?” He says smugly, putting his full weight into sitting on Geralt, who's stuck laying on his front.

Geralt just grins in reply and gets his hands under him, throwing Eskel from his back. Quickly he gets to his feet and throws himself at his friends, pinning his hands over his hands and laughing. “Never let your opponents hands go free Esk. Or are you already getting senile in your old age.”

“Piss off, you’re already starting to sound like old Rennes.” Eskel rolls his eyes and tries to throw Geralt off him.

With an overdramatic, outraged cry he lunges to try and tickle Eskel. “You take that back!”

It dissolves into another mock brawl, both trying to to tickle the other into submission. In the end they come to rest next to each other, laughter dissolving into breathless wheezing as they try and calm down again. They’re both a mess, hair tousled and mud stains all over them both, some of the leaves having found a way into their hair and clothes. 

It’s nice, even peaceful, both still grinning and panting, looking at the clouds passing by them.

They don’t talk, both unwilling to disturb the serenity and knowing that soon they won’t have any rest again. The training is harsh and so are the trainers. The only reason they managed to get away today being the one week anniversary of this year's Trial of the Grasses which means a funeral pyre has been erected for all the boys who didn’t make it. Since they weren’t fully fledged Witchers, not the whole wolf school has to attend, only the trainers and the dead boys surviving classmates.

After a while their breathing evens out, and they slip into a doze under the last rays of the autumn’s sun. In the quiet they both nearly miss the soft sobs that cut through the stillness, Geralt being the first to notice.

He turns to Eskel and whispers, “Do you hear that?”

Eskel raises an eyebrow, but then focuses and listens and nods after a moment. “I hear it, know who it is?”  
  


Geralt shakes his head, but points in the direction of some of the ruins strewn about the area of Kaer Morhen. "It sounds like it's coming from there though.”

They wait for a few seconds before Eskel breaks the silence. “So… should we investigate?”

“It would be irresponsible to go alone,” Geralt says, suppressing a grin, “ _Really_ irresponsible to investigate too.”

Eskel looks like he is trying to hold back laughter, “Super bad of us, totally ‘inadvisable’.” He says the last word mockingly, as if repeating someone, and Geralt snorts. 

Less than a second passes before they both shoot up and run towards the noise. Geralt yells back, “Last to arrive gets killed by wraiths!” 

They race each other to the little ruins that used to be a monastery by the looks of it. Most of the structure has crumbled to dust, weathered stones the only remnants of a once proud building. The only part left intact is a little courtyard, Geralt and Eskel can only barely look into it from the outside.

The sobs definitely come from in there, it doesn’t sound like a monster but a _child_.

Entering through a gap in the cracked stone, the courtyard seems barren at first, not a single plant growing, and no sight of a child. Geralt steps forward and calls out hesitantly, “Hello?”

At once the sobs fall silent. Geralt and Eskel look at each other before Eskel points out something at the far site of the courtyard. Behind a support beam, barely noticeable, is a small body that seems to try and make itself even smaller. 

Gently Eskel calls out, “We can see you there, are you alright?”

“Go- go aw _ay_.” A hiccuping, watery voice answers. “Leave me alone!”

“We wanna help, please.” Geralt says, he looks at Eskel a bit helplessly. The boy sounds so sad and hurt. Eskel just shakes his head and shrugs, looking lost.

Tentatively they walk towards him, but the boy just turns away and huddles further into the little corner. “I don’t want to go back.” He says, muffled, face mushed against his arms as if he was trying to hide from the world.

“Go back to where?” Eskel asks, but from the look he sends Geralt they both can probably guess.  
  
The boy confirms their suspicions when he mumbles, “To that, that castle, with the big scary men.” He curls even further in on himself, seemingly trying to melt into the wall just to get away. “I wanna go _home_.”

Feeling helpless, Geralt and Eskel look at each other. They have long since accepted their reality of living, and that they might not make it to adulthood. Geralt was one of the youngest boys to ever be brought to the castle. He grew up inside these walls, with Witchers and death. Eskel came a few years after Geralt, and they immediately became fast friends. Eskel was always the steady sort, and he knew that there wasn’t any use in crying for a lost life.

“We live there too, are you one of the new boys?” Geralt tries to be gentle, but he can see why it would be hard for him. He looks like he’s about as old as him and Eskel, and they’re both already ten years of age. Normally new recruits are younger and have more time to ease into this life, before long forgetting their old one.

He nods slightly, “I don’t want to be here, the scary men are _mean_ and I don’t want to kill things!”

Slowly Geralt kneels down beside him. “They’ll be a lot meaner if they have to find you, if you come with us we can say that it’s our fault and that we wanted to show you around.” A quick glance to Eskel confirms it, he’s on board as well.

The boy turns wide blue eyes to them, tears still dripping down his face. “You’d do that?” 

Geralt and Eskel nod in unison and watch as he tries to furiously wipe the tears away. “I didn’t want to run, I just-” He takes a deep breath and huffs in frustration, “I just wanted to go for a few hours but then I was _lost_.”

Eskel nods, “The valley is pretty big, it’s easy to get lost if you don’t know your way around.”

“But good for you that we found you, ‘cause we know the whole valley.” Geralt adds and stands up before he sticks out his hand. “So, what’s your name?”

The boy reaches out with a trembling hand, taking Geralt’s and letting him pull him up. “My name is Julian A-” He blinks, trying to clear the tears that sprung up again. “Just Julian.”

“I’m Geralt, and my friend here is Eskel.” Geralt says and pulls Julian closer, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

Eskel just smiles softly and nods, flitting to Julian’s other side and holding out his hand as well. “I think we can be good friends if you want to.”

Julian looks down at Eskel’s hand and shyly takes it, whispering “Thank you.”

Geralt and Eskel grin at each other, Julian sandwiched in the middle of them as they make their way back to the castle.

This is how it starts.

  
  


+++

  
  


They’re twelve and laying on a cot, hoping the trainers won’t notice them huddling together. 

It’s been a long time since they took Julian into their circle and they haven’t regretted it since. Julian is funny and clever and fun to play with. He loves to get in trouble with them, and sometimes even manages to sweet talk their way out of punishment.

The thing is though, Julian isn’t made for fighting. Not like Eskel and Geralt. They’re strong and ambitious, and training is fun even if it’s hard. Geralt excels at swordsmanship and Eskel at signs but Julian, he doesn’t like either.

He’s okay at signs and he’s textbook perfect at fighting with the swords, but it doesn’t come naturally to him. It’s not intuitive enough.

Julian told them once, a year into their friendship, that he wanted to be a bard and study at Oxenfurt. He already memorized music pieces and ballads and reading notes, and his singing voice is amazing too, and Eskel and Geralt mourn for him. This isn’t the life for Julian, but they can’t change it and they have to make do with what they have.

Eskel overheard one of the trainers saying that they hope Julian won’t make it through the trial, it wouldn’t do for there to be a Witcher who reflects badly on the wolf school after all.

They both vow to help Julian, so whenever they have time for themselves they train in secret, in the courtyard where they first met. Eskel tutors them both in signs and Geralt helps with their swordsmanship, while Julian tries to beat the bestiary and book knowledge into their skulls.

Deep down they all know that it isn’t likely that all three of them will survive. The normal rate is for three boys that live for every ten that go in.

Their year group is larger than normally seen, but it’s still not likely that they will make it through together. They promised each other that if one of them lives, that he will carry the others with them and won’t let their names be forgotten. 

Hope is a bitter and fragile thing, cutting deep and painful. 

But it’s the only thing they have aside from each other.

  
  


+++

  
  


They are thirteen now, the trials moving closer and closer.

Julian has finally found something he excels at: alchemy. He loves it, and is genuinely good at it, seeing patterns and adjusting formulas to brew the most potent potions and the best bombs. 

Eskel and Geralt thrill at seeing him blossom, excelling in their fields of choice. They still train together and now Julian helps them with alchemy as they assist him with his weak points. It’s frankly a tragedy that Witchers don’t work in teams, they would be nigh unstoppable.

They all gravitate towards each other, and even the trainers have given up trying to separate them.

Vesemir, one of the older instructors and also one of the nicer ones, set them all down a few weeks back. He wanted to make clear that they knew what they would get into and what could happen, namely not all of them surviving the trials.

They nodded, they knew the risk. Julian then looked him in the eyes and said, “Just because we know what might happen, why should we sob over it now when we still have time to live?”

Eskel and Geralt nod and then take Julian, leaving a gobsmacked Vesemir behind.

The same day they let a stink bomb loose in the teacher’s quarter and make it seem the fault of someone else. Training gets cancelled in favor of cleaning everything and airing the whole keep.

All three use this to flee to their courtyard, giggling over the faces of every adult Witcher in the keep made and nearly crying with laughter at how Rennes fled his room as if a hornet’s nest was on his trail. 

If they truly live on borrowed time, the least that they want is to have fun together.

They grin at each other.

  
  


+++

  
  


It’s the day before the Trials and it finds Eskel, Geralt, and Julian in the old, ruined monastery.

“Do you think we’ll survive?” Julian asks. He’s come a long way from the boy that was scared of the keep, but the thought of dying still makes his gut churn. 

Eskel, squeezes his knee and looks over at Geralt, who is pacing in a bout of nervousness. “I don’t know. We just have to hope for the best.”

Julian nods dejectedly, he knew that answer was coming.

Geralt turns to them both, “If I don’t make it and one of you does, I want you to live on and be happy, we knew it could happen and we shouldn’t carry it with us forever.”

Eskel snorts, “Since when have you been so wise?” His fiddling hands betraying his confidence.

Slowly walking over to them, he sits down and takes both Eskel’s and Julian’s hand. “I talked to some of the older boys, the one who already went through, they said that sometimes someone survived but died of grief not long after.” He shakes his head, red locks falling in his face and hiding his eye. “I don’t want that to happen to us.”

“You’re right, but…” Julian takes a deep breath and looks at the sky above. “I don’t want to forget.”

They’re quiet for a while after that, listening to the nature around them.

It’s Julian who speaks again. “I- I decided something.”

Both Eskel and Geralt turn to look at him, and he smiles a bit sheepishly. “It might seem silly but I don’t want to be Julian anymore.” He kneads his hand into his thigh and doesn’t look at them. “Julian reminds me too much of _before_. I’m not that boy anymore.”

Eskel nods and Geralt squeezes his hand. For a moment no one says anything but then Eskel asks, “What do you want us to call you?”

“Jaskier.” He says shyly. “It means buttercup and well, it’s pretty, poisonous, and resilient.”

Geralt snorts and grins, “It suits you, right Esk?” 

“Yeah.” Eskel says with a smirk. “It’s perfect.”

Jaskier looks at his two friends and smiles.

  
  


+++

  
  


“No! You can’t do that!” Eskel screams, as the older mages cart Jaskier and Geralt off. 

He is barely able to stand, the Trials still wreaking havoc in his body and he can barely stand. Still he tries to stand up and fight, stop them from taking his _friends_.

“They survived and for what?” His voice hoarse and every word _hurt_. “Just for more trials?!” 

Eskel struggles as Vesemir subdues him and tries to calm him down. “Please, Eskel you need to rest.” He tries to hold him in bed before he hurts himself further than what the trials did.

He screams after the mages, “ _How dare you!_ ”

With his last energy he turns around to face Vesemir and spits in his face, “You’re not better than all the others! You’re all _sick_!”

The last he sees before he falls back into unconsciousness is Vesemir’s face, that looks as if struck by a heavy blow, eyes wet.

  
  


+++

  
  


When Geralt wakes up, everything’s too loud and his whole body feels like it’s on fire. Vaguely he remembers that they got carted off, the mages said that they took to the mutations so well they wanted to test out _more_.

He hates them all so much and- 

His breaths catches in his throat. _Jaskier_. He was here with him, the mages took him too after all three of them survived, and he couldn’t bear it if this is what kills Jaskier. Not after everything they’ve already endured.

It takes a lot of effort to sit up, to make himself move and ignore the screaming of his muscles. Everything _hurts_. His eyes feel weird when he tries to look around the room, he notices that there is only the barest amount of light, but he can still see as if it were broad daylight.

All the air in his lungs rushes out when he spies a body on a cot on the other side of the room. He would know it anywhere. “Jas- _Jaskier_.” 

He coughs, his voice gravelly and hoarse and burning in his throat. Geralt prays that he isn’t dead. 

Carefully, he tries to stand and has to bite back a scream of pain. It feels like his body is both freezing and on fire, every step hurting like he is walking on shards of glass. He pushes through the pain, walking forward on unsteady legs, towards Jaskier.

Arriving he nearly collapses again but he has to _make sure_.

Gently he shakes him by the shoulder. “Jaskier, come on please open your eyes.” Geralt’s legs give out and he lands hard on his knees and all he can manage is a choking noise of pain.

He kneels on the ground, head on the cot and still weakly shaking Jaskier.

It feels like an eternity has passed when Jaskier opens his eyes.

“G- Geralt?” He groans in pain, one hand coming to his head.

Jaskier looks at Geralt and his pupils are slitted, his eyes are still blue but streaked and mottled with gold. He wonders if his own looks like this as well. 

With a shaking hand Jaskier reaches out and cubs his cheek before sliding it into his hair.

He looks so sad when he says, “You’re hair… it’s white.”

“What?” Geralt asks bewildered, he takes a strand of his hair and looks at it and Jaskier is right. It’s white.

He is so tired all of a sudden, and it seems Jaskier is as well.

“Come.” Jaskier says and Geralt awkwardly climbs into the cot next to him.

They slot into each other, holding on like a lifeline. Tomorrow they will worry about their new bodies and what has happened with Eskel, but for now they have each other.

They don’t plan on ever letting go.

  
  


+++

  
  


It’s been years since the trials and they all have matured and grown closer together. 

Their year had one of the highest survival rates ever recorded and it’s a miracle. Six boys have survived, including the two who survived the extra mutations.

They are all just glad that they survived together, that they’re still friends too.

It’s winter, next spring will mark their first year on the Path. All three have gravitated towards the ruined, little courtyards again. The snow lays thick and heavy, crunching under their boots.

Their breath comes out in clouds as they lean against the wall and discuss what they will do next year.

“I say we fuck tradition,” Jaskier says, eyes narrowed and calculating. “They can’t tell us what to do and what do they want to do? Babysit us? I say we meet on the Path as often as we can.”

Geralt brushes a few snowflakes off Jaskier’s salt and pepper hair and hums in agreement. Since the trials he doesn’t talk as much anymore, voice screamed raw and bloody with the extra trials make it hard to speak after long. Jaskier was lucky in this regard, he was so out of it he couldn’t even scream. Eskel and Geralt were both immensely happy for him, they know how much being able to sign means to Jaskier.

Eskel huff, “It does make sense and it would also double our chance at surviving drastically. We could tackle harder contracts together.”

“We make a good team.” Geralt adds and they all know it. Fuck the the trainers and the mages, and fuck tradition.

Jaskier nods, a little smugly. “That’s decided then!” He claps his hands together and grins mischievously . “What do you two say about a bit of fun.”

Before the other two can answer, Jaskier throws himself back and sends a weak Aard their way that ends up covering Eskel and Geralt from head to toe in snow.

Eskel sends a look at Geralt and they start to grin, baring their fangs. “Oh you are _so_ on.”

Jaskier laughs and flees, the others hot on his heels.

They spend the whole afternoon having an impromptu snowball fight, made even more fun with the use of signs.

It’s good to let go once in a while and to enjoy themselves.

In their game they don’t notice that someone is watching them. 

Vesemir looks at the three and just hopes that the world won’t break them.

  
  


+++

  
  


In the next few years they go out together on the Path. Never alone for too long, meeting up when they could and traveling together for as long as possible. 

They grew into themselves, but also all grew a bit more somber with the hostility that the world treated them to. 

It was hardest for Jaskier and Geralt, who were soft and liked to be around people, especially for Witchers.

While Geralt grew quieter, Jaskier grew louder and more boisterous, Eskel settling into his calm and steady presence. They all balanced each other out.

After a while Geralt and Jaskier began to date, it didn’t really change everything except that they now also shared kisses. Eskel didn’t mind and was happy for them, it had been long in the making.

Sometimes they lay together at the campfire, cuddling like they were boys, Geralt and Jaskier trading the occasional kisses, while Eskel cuddled up to both of them.

It isn’t strange between them, Eskel has no interest in them both romantically but they’re his- he doesn’t know. ‘Friends’ doesn't encompass what they are. They are all partners.

Eskel falls asleep to the sound of Jaskier humming under his breath.

  
  


+++

  
  


Seasons come and seasons go and they are together through all of it. They spend many of their winters at Kaer Morhen, where Jaskier entertains everyone with bawdy singing and _lute playing_ of all things. 

He looked so smug when they met after many months apart, brandishing a lute and boasting he learned how to play it too. Eskel and Geralt think he looks good with a lute in his hands, it fits him better than a sword and he looks so _happy_. 

They are nearing forty when they get called back in the summer because not one, but two teachers got killed by something that nested itself into the area surrounding Kaer Morhen.

Headmaster Rennes has asked them to teach for the rest of the year until they manage to replace the lost teachers.

Geralt teaches swordsmanship to the boys who have passed the trials already, and Eskel advanced signs, while Jaskier commandeers the labs and classrooms. They’re a unit and a team on and off the battlefield.

Jaskier even gets a little fan in the form of a boy called Lambert. He is a rude hellion that seems to hate everyone and everything, except for Jaskier, who it seems he grudgingly respects. If Jaskier is to be believed the boy is a genius with alchemy and bombs, and could even surpass him with work and dedication.

Late at night when they are all laying in bed together, Jaskier reveals that it feels like he has gained a little brother again. Julian had a little brother, a long, long time ago that he adored. He loves to teach and see that spark in Lambert’s eyes when he finds something that _works_.

Together they tackle the monster that had killed the two teachers and kill it, bringing the trophy home under the awed looks of the trainees.

The end of the year turns into years, not a Witcher willing to settle into a primary teaching position so the teacher’s role is in rotation.

Jaskier loves it, it’s perfect for him because he does love to teach, but he couldn’t do it forever, he loves the continent and seeing new things. He always brings back stories to tell the kids, to get them some fun in their lives.

Lambert grows a bit less angry with age, although he still seems to hate everyone except for a few people and his friends. Jaskier seems to always glow talking about his accomplishments and what he does in class, he even encourages and helps to hide pranks Lambert comes up with. Eskel and Geralt just shake their head, but they know they weren’t any better in their youth. They just hope Lambert survives the trials, it would break Jaskier's heart if he died.

Like a miracle, he does. As the only boy of his cohort. 

After, Jaskier nearly ripped the mage’s heads off when they suggested to test how he fared right after. He took Lambert and disappeared for a week into the Morhen Valley before coming back. 

Lambert seemed to have gone back to being angry but the week with Jaskier had been good for him. After, he leaves again with Geralt and Eskel, until their next rotation comes around.

It would be Jaskier's last.

  
  


+++

  
  


Jaskier is the first to arrive and to utter chaos.

A whole class of boys and their teacher have been long overdue to come back from their expedition into the Valley and the castle just got news of a big group of Nekkers that has been sighted near where the expedition was headed. Without waiting for another word, Jaskier curses and turns around into the valley, he only barely hears Lambert call out to him but he can’t wait.

He arrives to see that the Nekker group has surrounded the group, trying to get past the Quen shield the teacher and several of the boys are holding up. The teacher- he doesn’t know his name- is tired, sweat beading down his face and neck in the effort to hold the shield.

Jaskier gulps and prays, they are far too many for a single Witcher but he has to _try_ , otherwise these boys will die. He can’t let that happen. 

He can’t.

“I’m sorry. Geralt. Eskel. I hope you can forgive me.”

  
  


+++

  
  


Geralt and Eskel arrive in the aftermath, the teacher is dead on the ground as are all the Nekkers. A quick headcount shows that all the boys are alive at least.

Jaskier is nowhere to be seen.

Until a boy points with a shaking hand to the opposite side of the clearing, he’s crying still, snot running down his nose. “He- he saved us.”

Geralt and Eskel feel their hearts nearly stop, they know that they are both thinking the same thing. _Please no, not him_.

Carefully they make their way over and when they see a body lying on the ground they start to run, not caring about the monster corpses. They slitter to a halt before him and slowly turn him around.

“ _Jaskier_.” Geralt breathes out, Jaskier’s right arm is missing from the shoulder down and his whole side is covered in burns. “Nononononono. Please Jask, don’t do this to us.”

Eskel grabs Geralt by the shoulder to try and get him away. “Geralt, don’t- we can’t, we need to get the kids to safety.”

Geralt shakes his head, tears streaming down his face.

“Ge- geralt…” A hand touches Geralt’s face and with a jolt he looks up. One of Jaskier’s eyes opens, the other staying shut.

With a cry, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand and Eskel falls to his knees beside them. 

“I’m… sorry… wanted…” Jaskier breath rattles in his chest and he coughs up blood. “Wanted to save… the boys.”

“You did good Jas, so good they’re all alive.” Eskel whispers, his voice wavering.

Jaskier’s eye closes and he murmurs, “That’s… good.”

“Please stay with us, come one, please.” Geralt begs, barely feeling when Eskel puts his hands on top of his.

Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s hand and shakes his head. “Please.”

Weakly, Jaskier squeezes back and opens his eye enough to look at them, he smiles softly. “I don’t think… I will make it… my hearts.” It seems to be a struggle for Jaskier to stay awake now, his mouth forming and shaping words. “Can you… please… bury me? In our-”

Another cough, more blood. “Our Courtyard.”

Eskel nods even if Jaskier can’t see it and cups his cheek. “We will. If that’s your wish.”

Jaskier smiles. “Tell… Lambert.. I’m proud… of him?”

“We will,” Geralt says, voice watery and wavering.

“I… love you… both.” With these last words, Jaskier's eye falls shut and his breathing evens out before stopping completely.

Geralt screams.

  
  


+++

  
  


The burial was unusual, normally a dead Witcher will get a funeral pyre for them. Some of the mages and older trainers insisted on it too but Eskel and Geralt would have ripped their throats out without blinking would they have interfered with Jaskier’s last wish.

They buried him in the middle of the courtyard, the only ones there were them and Lambert.

Both Eskel and Geralt ignored how Lambert sniffled, trying to wipe his tears away every five seconds. Learning from Jaskier they knew he wouldn’t have appreciated having someone mention it. 

As a precaution, Geralt and Eskel held vigil in rotation for seven days and seven nights before bidding Jaskier goodbye forever. One the last day Lambert showed up, holding something in his hand.

“It’s a tree sprout,” He explained, looking away. “Vesemir gave it to me. Jaskier would have liked to help something grow.”

“He would have.” Geralt agrees quietly.

Together they plant the sapling over Jaskier’s grave.

Jaskier _would_ have loved it. He was always a sucker for good things that are rooted in tragedy. 

  
  


+++

  
  


Over the course of years and Geralt’s, Eskel’s, and Lambert’s care the spout grew into a sapling into a tree. 

Vesemir once visited and said that the tree was something particular. It grew fast, faster than any tree he has ever seen. He theorized that it was possible that Jaskier remains and the magic in Morhen Valley were helping it take root. Within a decade the tree was already towering over the courtyard, branches folding over the walls of it.

Eskel and Geralt didn’t much care for it. They always visited the tree and Jaskier grave, telling stories of the Path and the shit Lambert got into _again_. 

With time the wound of the Jaskier shaped hole didn’t lessen but got easier to ignore and handle. Eskel and Geralt were the only Witchers who travelled together and didn’t split up after a while.

Part of it is that they couldn’t bear to lose each other and another part of it being guilt. If they had been with Jaskier, he wouldn’t have died. They could have taken on the Nekkers together, like always, and come out unscathed. 

But they didn’t and what if’s won’t help anymore. The only thing they can do is take care of each other and try to be happy for Jaskier.

He wouldn’t have wanted for them to sink into sadness.

Sometimes they went back to teaching for a bit, it didn’t feel right without Jaskier but they liked it still even if they couldn’t stand to be in the castle for long.

It’s the middle of autumn when it happens. Eskel for once has gone alone on a simple contract on the edge of the Morhen Valley. Eskel and Geralt are both uneasy about it but they looked together at the report that came in and saw that it couldn't be anything dangerous and Geralt was needed in the castle.

A day after Eskel has left, the wolf school gets attacked.

When it happens, Geralt is glad that Eskel went and doesn’t have to witness this. He hopes that Eskel will be able to live without him and that he doesn’t blame himself.

  
  


+++

  
  


It ends the same way it begins. 

The light of the setting sun paints everything golden and a tree towers above.

With considerable effort, Geralt limps himself into the courtyard. Blood drips and oozes from countless wounds, one leg bent at an awkward angle and dragging behind him.

He is so close.

Geralt collides with the tree, blood loss making everything hazy. He leans against it and slowly slides down.

His eyes slip shut and he revels in the feeling of the breeze rolling over him. 

These will be his last moments he feels it in his bones, in the pain and wounds he has. He lets out a long and rattling breath, coughing up blood. 

“Sorry Esk.” He whispers against the sky and the earth and the air, he hopes it will reach him somehow. “Sorry I’m leaving you like this.”

At least he‘ll die in the arms of his first love and he can only hope Eskel buries him under the roots of the tree so he can finally be with Jaskier again. 

He hates leaving Eskel like this, his other heart, his other soul.

His last thoughts are of them both together, his partners. Eskel’s soft smiles, Jaskier bright laughter. He smiles at the memories, even as everything grows fuzzier and the darkness closes in.

One last breath _and-_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
